


The Root of Everything

by ethereal_xo



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Muggle, Ghosts, Haunting, M/M, Mild Language, Pre-Relationship, RS Fireside Tales
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-07
Updated: 2019-03-07
Packaged: 2019-10-16 05:09:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17543273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ethereal_xo/pseuds/ethereal_xo
Summary: 'All of a sudden, the movement returned to Remus’ body. Then, when he had gathered enough courage, he sprinted up the stairs. He nearly collided with Sirius at the top.“Whoa! Jesus Christ, Remus, what’s going on?”“You didn’t tell me this house was haunted!"'





	The Root of Everything

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to my little tale! I hope you enjoy :)
> 
> A special thanks to the ever-so-lovely mods for this fest, and to my wonderful beta, J (you know who you are (; )

Remus hated motorcycles.

No, that wasn’t strictly true. He actually really liked motorcycles. He thought that they were cool and sexy, especially when Sirius was the one straddling them. But travelling by motorcycle did not agree with him in the slightest. He always felt nauseous after it and he could never understand why. He much preferred to travel by car, usually in his blue VW Beetle.

Sirius, on the other hand, hated cars. He hated the cramped space of a car seat, he hated the length of the journeys and he especially hated having to sit still with a seat belt on. And since this whole trip was Sirius’ idea, and it was for Sirius’ benefit, they took the motorcycle instead of the car.

And if Remus ran out of sight and vomited behind a nearby tree once they arrived at their destination, then that was his business.

“You alright mate?” Sirius called while Remus was recovering.

“Yeah!” Remus replied loudly, wiping his mouth on his sleeve. “Just making sure I didn’t lose any body parts on the way.”

“Such little faith in me, Moony! I wouldn’t hurt you! Especially not the little you.”

Flushing red, Remus grunted and pulled himself out from behind the massive tree trunk. “Course that would be all you cared about, Sirius.” He poked him in the stomach once he came close enough, drawing a small squawk from Sirius. “Not everyone is as obsessed with their dick as you are.”

Sirius laughed and wrapped an arm around Remus’ waist. “It’s alright, Moony, no need to be modest! I’ve heard your tiny little moans in the night…”

Ignoring him, Remus took in his surroundings. They seemed to be at the top of a hilled drive. There was a black rusted gate behind them, and only trees around them. The path seemed to turn around a corner, the view past that hidden by bushes and leafy branches. “Where are we anyway?”

“Were you not paying attention to the signs?”

Remus thought back on the journey here, and how he had spent most of it with his head buried in Sirius’ neck. Not entirely for safety reasons… but Sirius didn’t need to know that. Instead, he just shot him a look.

Sirius chuckled. “We’re in Whitby.”

“Whitby? What… why are we in Whitby?”

Sirius glanced at him momentarily. “You know, I was a bit surprised that you didn’t ask me what this trip was about. Usually you want to know every single detail about things. I found it a bit odd to be honest, if not refreshing.”

“To be frank, I was a little worried to ask…” He usually would have asked about the journey, asked why they were going there and why Remus had been asked along. He was still trying to beat the voice in his head that told him his friends did not truly want him around. He had gotten much better at ignoring it, but sometimes it popped up at times like these just to kick him and remind him that it was still here. 

Remus saw a large shape in the distance, a building of some sort. “Are we going up there?”

“Yep. That is – was – my uncle Alphard’s manor house. I was hoping that you would help me tidy it up a bit.”

“Your uncle – I – you didn’t tell me that your uncle had a mansion in Whitby. You didn’t mention he had a mansion at all, actually.”

“ _ Manor house _ , Moony. Not the same thing. And it never came up.” Sirius shrugged. “To be honest, I didn’t know about it until last year. He left it to me in his will.”

“It’s pretty.” And as they came closer, it was clear to see that it was. It was a large stately manor, all grey brick and black slate. Dark green ivy draped down from the top of the walls. The window frames and the door were covered in flaking red paint, the wood cracked and rotting in some areas. It was clear that this house had not been lived in for a long time.

“It was prettier before he died. It was his pride and joy. Pity really. It’s all overgrown now.” Sirius walked over to one of the nearer windows, cupping his hands on either side of his face and peering into the room beyond the glass. 

“Were you here before?”

“Yeah, when I was younger. Before he fell out with Wally and Orion because he married Edgar.” Sirius stood back from the window again and snorted. “Then I fell out with them. Funny that. I think I had more in common with him than I realised.”

“Was he a stubborn, arrogant pain in the arse too?” Remus smirked.

“Shut up, you twat.” Sirius marched over and punched his arm. “You know you love me.”

Remus shoved him away, forcing out a weak laugh. “I love you just as much as I love dung-flavoured Bertie Botts.”

Sirius pressed a hand to his chest and pouted. “You wound me, Lupin.”

“You’ll live.” 

Sirius grinned and skipped over to the front door. While he rummaged in his pockets for the keys, Remus found himself staring into space and contemplating their previous exchange. The word ‘love’, so casually thrown into conversation, didn’t rest easily with him. He’d been having thoughts about his friend for a while now, thoughts he hadn’t yet faced and had no intention of facing any time soon. It had caused him to question many things about their friendship, including why he was the only one Sirius asked to help him sort Alphard’s house when both James and Peter were free. 

“You know, we don’t have to stay the night if you don’t want to. It’s been abandoned for a long time, it’s probably a bit cold and dark at night. There’s a few B&Bs nearby.”

Remus jumped slightly when Sirius spoke, and saw only his furrowed brows. Seemingly being lost in thought had worried Sirius. Little did he know that it wasn’t the house that he was worried about. But maybe, as he soon would find out, maybe he should have been worried about the house. More specifically, what lay inside its walls.

“Sleep in a B&B, and miss what could be my only chance to sleep in a mansion like they have in nearly every novel I’ve read?” Remus smiled. “No, no, it’ll be grand.”

If the exterior of the house didn’t give away that it was abandoned, then the interior certainly did. It was eerily quiet, and each room seemed to have a thick, undisturbed blanket of dust coating every surface. A grand staircase took up half of the entry hall, its carpet threadbare and faded. The furniture, antique and well-crafted, was in good shape however. That much gave Remus a little more faith in the place.

“No one’s lived here in about five or six years,” Sirius said quietly, leaving the backpack he was carrying onto the floor by the staircase. “And I don’t think Alphard liked cleaning very much.”

“Another thing you have in common it seems.”

“Shut it, Moony.” Sirius laughed a little and shrugged off his jacket. “Here, I’ll make tea. Make yourself at home!”

  


They had tea and some biscuits that Remus had brought with him, and then they got to work. They spent the afternoon sorting through books in the study. They were dusty, old and leather-bound. It was Remus’ idea of heaven. Sirius didn’t seem to mind it as much as Remus thought he would, but he did keep sneezing and grunting to himself.

“Did you know that the chapel in the village inspired  _ Dracula _ ?” Remus said, looking up from a book he had found about the history of Whitby. 

“Is that the vampire book you keep trying to get me to read?” Sirius asked. He blew dust off the cover of a large bookend and coughed heavily. “Jesus.”

“It’s a good book, I really think you’ll like it.” Remus ran his fingers along the illustrated map of Transylvania. “Maybe we could visit that chapel before we leave?”

There was a short pause, which ended once Remus looked up and met Sirius’ gaze. He had a strange, soft look on his face. That quickly disappeared once he realised that Remus was looking at him. “Yeah,” he said, clearing his throat. “Yeah, we can do that.”

Remus nodded and went back to admiring the book. He didn’t ponder too much on how quiet Sirius got after that, just gave it a little thought and let it go. They worked together in silent harmony until Sirius’ stomach started to growl. Each time it did made Remus snigger a little until Sirius finally tossed the book he was holding onto a shelf and grabbed his jacket.

“I’m going to head to the village to pick up dinner, alright?”

“Yeah - just make sure you don’t forget your wallet again.”

“You have my word that I won’t forget the wallet, Remus.” Sirius pulled on the jacket and headed for the door. “I have the thingamajig if you want to talk to me while I’m down there.”

“It’s called a phone, Sirius.”

“Thingamajig sounds more fun. I’ll see you in a bit.” There was a bit of shuffling and the bang of the heavy front door closing. Once he heard the revving of the bike’s engine fading away, he knew Sirius was gone.

Remus spent the next while sorting through a box of old books, not noticing time passing by. Books had a certain magic like that. It was even more magical here, in this study, because there was a mixture of everything in there. There was everything from a copy of the Brothers Grimm fairy-tale book he read as a child to a battered version of  _ Les Misérables  _ and a few delicately wrapped hardbacks by Jules Verne. There were beautiful illustrations in some of them. He was admiring the gleaming image of the submarine in  _ 10,000 Leagues Under the Sea  _ when he heard a loud noise come from somewhere else in the house.

“Sirius?” Nothing. That was no surprise really, Sirius was known to try and scare people whenever he had the chance. 

“Sirius, I’m not in the mood. Where are you?” 

Still nothing.

“If you try and scare me, Padfoot, I swear to God I will whack you with one of those books you hate so much.”

He heard another, more quiet noise. He left the drawing room and hunted around the hallways, listening for a sound. He also kept an eye out for Sirius, still suspicious that it could be him playing tricks again. Because if it wasn’t Sirius, then it was the old creaky house, and if it wasn’t the house, then what the bloody hell was it?

He figured out eventually that it was coming from a door near the kitchen. As he entered, he reached for a pan that was hanging on a hook over the stove. It felt heavier than it looked, which gave him a boost that counteracted some of the nerves shaking his limbs. He crept over to the door and whipped it open. The daylight from the kitchen window spilled into the doorway, illuminating what looked like the top of a set of worn stairs. Echoes of dripping water and louder creaking came from below.

“Of course,” Remus whispered to himself, “of course it’s the fucking basement. Very original, Pads, very original indeed.”

He thought that he had taught him better than this. The basement was too obvious, he should know this by now. Yet he chose it. Remus couldn’t wait to tease him about it. 

He opened the door slowly, the hinges creaking in protest. Clearly, they had not been oiled or used in quite some time. Much of the same could be said for the rest of this house really, so it wasn’t much of a shock. 

He heard a thump. And then he saw a figure. He was about to speak when it started to move, gliding across the floor. At first, all he could make out was a shadow. It was a large shadow, tall and thin, moving in the half-light. He crept down the stairs, keeping one hand firmly gripped onto the wooden bannister. 

He could now make out his clothing. A long, velvet-looking coat in a dark colour – brown or dark blue perhaps. Dark trousers too, and shiny shoes that seemed to float a few inches above the ground. That last detail was one that he tried not to focus on too much. He focused on it twice as much as a result. 

“Sirius? Is that you?”

The face that turned to face him was not Sirius’. It was pale, gaunt, red-eyed and wet. The silence was deafening. Remus froze, the breath stuck in his throat. 

“Y-you’re not Sirius.”

The man stared at him for a moment, a blank stare. Then he started to wail loudly. His head buried itself in his hands. The wailing became louder and louder and soon it was all that Remus could hear. He could not move away. He was stuck, frozen to the spot, staring at the man in silent terror.

The man started to glide again, closer and closer until he went straight through Remus. A rush of pure cold took hold of his body and he cried out. 

All of a sudden, the movement returned to Remus’ body. He whipped his head around until he could see the man again, floating in the corner with his back to him. Then Remus started to back away, watching the sobbing man with such a horror in his veins that he could scarcely breathe. Then, when he had gathered enough courage, he sprinted up the stairs. He nearly collided with Sirius at the top.

“Whoa! Jesus Christ, Remus, what’s going on?”

“You didn’t tell me this house was haunted,” Remus panted, slamming the door shut behind him. He swore that his heart was about to tear out of his chest. The image of the ghostly man was seared into his mind’s eye.

“Because it’s not haunted!” Sirius stared at him for a moment in confusion. Then he chortled and slapped Remus on the back. “Good one, Moony! You nearly had me going there.”

Remus nodded slightly, forcing a chuckle. He had never believed in ghosts, Remus knew this. He himself had been pretty sceptical about the idea of the supernatural. But that figure…that wasn’t something that any kind of logic could explain. At least  _ he _ couldn’t come up with any logic that could explain it. Maybe he simply didn’t want to get an explanation, because he was afraid that he wouldn’t like the answer. 

He followed Sirius to the bedrooms at the back of the house. There were about five bedrooms, four across from each other and one at the end of the hall. Only three were furnished – by furnished he meant that there was a stable bed and clean bedclothes – so they had decided to take two across from each other for the night. 

“I’ll be right next door, you can run into me if some ghostly figure comes and tries to attack you in the night.” Sirius grinned and raised his hands, wiggling his fingers.

“Fuck off, Sirius.”

“Wooooooo!”

Remus slammed the door shut, gritting his teeth. He couldn’t really yell at Sirius for teasing him, no matter how much he felt like doing so. He wouldn’t believe without seeing it himself. Except he did. And now he couldn’t shake it off.

  


He woke to the sound of chirping birds and a strong shard of sunlight in his eyes. It wasn’t the most awful way to awaken. It would be more appreciated if he hadn’t fallen asleep only two or three hours before. He groaned softly and buried his face in the pillow for a moment. He had almost drifted off to sleep again when a vision of the ghostly figure appeared in his head again and he jolted awake again. 

“Stupid fucking mind tricks,” he hissed to himself. He tossed off the quilt and pulled on his pants. “I give up.”

“Jesus mate, you look awful,” Sirius muttered when Remus finally trudged into the kitchen. His cheeks were puffed out from a mouthful of what Remus judged to be buttered toast based on what was on the table in front of him. His neck tightened as he swallowed. “Did you get any sleep last night?”

“Not really.” Remus sank into a chair across from Sirius. He rubbed his right eye with the heel of his hand. “I couldn’t sleep a wink.”

Sirius left his knife down, the corners of his lips curled downward. “You really got a scare in the basement, didn’t you?”

Remus stared down at the wooden grain of the table, almost ashamed to admit it. He was a grown man, he should know better than to be afraid of spectres. Even if they did exist. 

“Remus, what did you see down there?”

He glanced up, saw the wide eyes. What was the point in bringing it up again? Sirius wouldn’t believe him, especially when he wasn’t sure if he believed it himself. He shook his head.  “Nothing that should worry you. I’m fine.”

  


Against his better judgement, Remus found himself at the top of the stairs once again later that afternoon, staring down into the darkness of the basement. He flicked the light switch on the wall, watching as the orange bulb buzzed to life below, casting an unnatural glow on the room. Clutching a  salt shaker in his hand, he slowly walked down the stairs. He ignored the shaking in his limbs. 

He needed to do this. It was all in his mind and this would prove that. Once he proved that it was nothing more than a figment of his annoyingly overactive imagination, he could sleep again. 

He came to the bottom of the stairs and pressed a hand to the wall. 

“Hello?”

The light started to flicker and one of the bulbs switched off. Remus gasped and leaned his back against the wall, his chest heaving with a rattling breath.

The ghostly figure appeared in the half light, his eyes still red and puffy. He stared at Remus in silence.

Remus, with a heavy lump in his throat, moved a little closer. “Hello?”

The man furrowed his brows and squinted at him. “What do you want?”

Remus was startled for a moment. He was not expecting a reaction, never mind one that was so hostile. “I…I came down here the other day and you were crying. I wanted…to see if you were okay.”

The ghost fixed him with a glare, his lip trembling. Remus thought that he was in a lot of pain, physical or emotional he couldn’t tell. 

“My name is Vincent.”

“Remus.”

Vincent did not answer, or do much of anything for a while. He stared at Remus as if he was looking straight through him. It was a little unnerving, so much so that Remus felt a need to move away. He was making his way to the stairs when the ghost spoke again.

“I died here,” Vincent whispered, “while I was visiting Alphard. He seemed to understand my son better than I could. I thought that he could help me with a fight I was having with him.” He seemed to sway slightly, fading in and out of view. “It was a heart attack I believe. I never got to see my funeral, or say goodbye to my family. I have been stuck here. I never even got to resolve my argument with him…”

“I’m sorry,” Remus said quietly, unsure of what was the correct thing to say. He didn’t know what it was like to experience the pain that Vincent did. To be stuck in this place, to never see his son again…it must truly be painful. 

He continued to listen to Vincent’s speech, hearing him talk about his wife’s death, how life seemed to be that much more difficult with his son after her passing. How sad he was that he couldn’t connect with him as he grew up, and that he was gone from his son’s life before he even properly had a chance to know him as a teen.

“He’s probably all grown up now,” Vincent murmured softly, a tear dripping down his cheek. He slowly faded away.

Remus bit his lip and tilted his head. He was trapped here…maybe there was a way to fix that.

  


“No.”

“What do you mean no?”

“No as in no, Remus!” Sirius stomped his feet once. “This is your imagination running wild and you know it. You’re just trying to drag me into this and either prank me or something else. I’m not that thick.”

“And you think I am?” Remus demanded. “Do you honestly think I would make this up? Make up that I haven’t slept much at all? Make up that a ghostly man is stuck in that basement, in pain because he cannot move on? Do you think me that cruel, Sirius?”

Sirius paused for a moment, visibly taken aback. “I…I didn’t realise…”

“No, you didn’t. But now you will. Come with me.” He grabbed Sirius’ arm and dragged him toward the basement door. He led him downstairs. He didn’t stop until they reached the foot of the stairs. He let go of Sirius’ arm then and turned to face the room. “Vincent? Are you still here?” 

There was silence, dust floating in the dark air. 

“It’s alright,” Remus whispered. “He’s a friend. My friend. This is Sirius.”

Vincent slowly appeared. Remus heard Sirius gasp softly beside him. There was a silent moment while Vincent studied him. Then, he spoke. 

“You own the house now?” Vincent murmured, his face fading in and out of view. “I haven’t seen Alphard here in a long time. I did hear him mention a Sirius, a long time ago. He said that he wanted you here.”

“Yes,” Sirius said softly, moving a little closer. “He was my uncle, he left this place to me.” He bit his lip. “Remus told me that you’re here because your family died here. That you can’t… move on.”

Vincent nodded and rubbed at the side of his face. “Alphard tried to find my son, so I could finish my business here. He never came back, I assume now because he passed himself. I don’t know what I’ll do now.”

“We can help with that!” Remus said excitedly. “There’s more ways to find people now, we can track him down.”

Vincent smiled, small and shy. “You would do that?”

“Yes, of course,” Sirius said immediately. “You deserve to move on. I know that my uncle would have thought the same thing.”

Remus thought he saw a sheen in Vincent’s eyes, but with how translucent he was it was hard to tell. “Thank you,” he whispered. “That would truly be a wonderful thing.”

  


Instead of cleaning and sorting the house, they spent the next few days hunting for Vincent’s son. It didn’t take long, what with the descriptions given and the few people living in Whitby that fit that same description. The real problem was trying to convince him to come to the manor to see Vincent. They didn’t tell him at first why exactly they wanted him to come – which left him suspicious, of course. When it was revealed why, he laughed in their faces and tried to leave. 

However, Sirius somehow managed to convince him to come to see the basement at least. Then he saw Vincent and immediately started to cry. Remus and Sirius both left them to have their privacy. They only knew that they had done the right thing when the son came up again and thanked them profusely for letting his father see him again. Once he left, they both descended the stairs to the basement again.

When they came into the room, Vincent was wiping his eyes and flickering.

“Are you okay?” Remus asked, keeping his voice gentle.

Vincent smiled slightly. “I’m so much more than okay, Mr Lupin. You and Mr Black helped me to settle my unfinished business. Now, I can move on.” He pulled his hat onto his head. “I am in debt to you both. Thank you.” 

“Well, that’s my good deed of the day done.” Sirius clapped his hands together once and glanced at the two others. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Vincent. I hope that you find what you’re looking for on the other side.”

“Thank you, Mr Black. I will not forget this.” Vincent then faded away, spots of light dancing among the dust where he was.

“I’m going to go upstairs and get started on dinner.” Sirius stopped at the foot of the stairs. “Are you coming, Rem?”

“Yeah, I will in a bit. I just need a few moments.”

“Sure. I’ll be upstairs if you need me.” 

Remus nodded and turned to face the room again, the only sounds he could hear were the gentle dripping of water nearby and Sirius’ fading footsteps. 

There was a loud  _ pop _ and Vincent reappeared, startling Remus slightly. 

Vincent quietly apologised. “I would have gone, but I remembered that there was one more thing that I needed to do.”

“What is it? I can help.”

“Ah, well, that is where you are wrong. I believe this is the moment where I can help you now.” Vincent gestured for Remus to come closer, which he did, confused and bewildered as to what Vincent would so desperately want to tell him. 

“I know that you’re afraid to live, I can sense in you.” Vincent whispered. “Please, don’t let your life pass you by. I did. I let the people I loved slip away. I let my son become neglected until he resented me for it. And I did nothing until it was too late. I let it happen, and that is the biggest regret I have.” He reached out and Remus felt a cold touch on his shoulder where Vincent’s hand would have rested. He resisted the urge to shudder. “I know that you feel something for him. Don’t make the same mistakes I did, Mr Lupin.”

Remus nodded, pursing his lips and blinking rapidly. He ignored the stinging behind his eyelids. He cleared his throat. 

“I wish you all the best,” Vincent said. He tipped his hat and vanished into the darkness. Cobwebs jittered in an imaginary breeze where he had stood.

Letting out a long, quiet sigh, Remus nodded slightly to himself and made his way back upstairs. 

  


It wasn’t until the following day that they decided to leave. They had cleaned up as much as they could, and Sirius had already packed up things he did not want and had left them with a charity shop in town. 

“Thank you for helping me sort out the place, Rem.” Sirius locked the door and tucked the key into his jean pocket. They both walked away from the front door, only stopping once they came to the motorcycle.

“Thank you for helping me with our ghostly friend.”

Sirius nodded and bit his lip. “About that…I’m sorry that I didn’t believe you before. I should have taken it more seriously.”

“Seriously?” Remus chuckled, dodging Sirius’ punch. “It’s alright, it was a bit of a crazy story. I would have been just as disbelieving if it was me.”

“Sure…” Sirius tugged his helmet on. “Now, let’s go! We’ll go visit that chapel and we might even make it to the Potters’ for tea.”

“That sounds like a great idea,” Remus said with a smile. He glanced at the windows upstairs one last time. He thought that he saw a tall figure at the window, slender shoulders and what looked like a loose gown, white hand pressed to the window. 

He then took the spare helmet, strapped it on his head and sat behind Sirius. “Let’s get out of here.”

**Author's Note:**

> The title for this was taken from a letter Vincent Van Gogh wrote to his brother, Theo (Letter 476, Arles, April 1888).
> 
> "It seems more and more that people are the root of everything, and though it will always be a melancholy thought that you yourself are not in real life..."
> 
> While the Vincent in this story was not in any way inspired by the great Van Gogh, I found this part of the letter fit him and his pain, and the underlying story in this in general. People are indeed the root of everything.


End file.
